


Breaking

by starborncas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starborncas/pseuds/starborncas





	Breaking

Cas loves Dean’s sturdy persistence when he drives the Impala, going for hours and hours before finally deciding to stop for the night in a run down, neon sign fleabag motel. 

Cas loves the way he can observe Dean’s mood through the way he grips the wheel, his knuckles tight and unforgiving, closed off when he’s angry; his palm open and resting against the curve, a finger gently tracing the worn grips when he’s more open and feeling free. 

Cas loves when he can sit on the seat next to Dean and look at the shadows fall across his the silhouette of Dean’s nose, his eyelashes, his lips. Cas can look upon these shadows and see the vulnerabilities within this man he admires so deeply, his weak spots, his deep cracks, and most of all, the overwhelming patches of unflinching righteousness that drown out the darkness. 

He loves when he sees these things, and he stores them away deep in his heart because Dean glances over at him, out the side of his eye and growls, “What, Cas?” And then Cas must move his gaze to the landscape, or the black of night whipping past the window. 

He loves these pieces he collects, and he turns them over in his heart, willing them not to hurt him, not to force him to feel the uncertainty or (father help him) the love that accompany these pieces of himself. But he can’t, he can’t because he watches Dean and he knows Dean and he knows that Dean does not, could not ever feel the same way. Everything he ever touched he tainted and he cannot bring himself to ruin this single good thing preserved in the goodness of humanity. 

 

***

Dean feels lonely in the Impala sometimes. It’s his home, just the same as it always has been. It’s more than a beautiful symphony of machinery; and he would never admit it to Sam, but he always thought of it as a reflection of his soul. He likes to feel the engine rumbling powerfully under his fingertips, and in at least this single aspect of his life, he is always in complete control. 

When Cas pops up in the seat next to him, he leaps out of his skin and spits out curses but feels a deep pleasure spreading through his bones, that he tries to ignore with a shake of his shoulders. 

Sometimes he feels Cas’ stare practically burning onto his skin, and he knows that his ‘angelic curiosity’, or whatever, makes him think it’s ok to just stare people down or get all up in their breathing room, but when he does it, Dean has to swallow down the disgust he feels at the deep longing that stirs. The absolute last thing he needs is another heart sickness that he must set aflame and leave to disintegrate, like a box of bones that he and Sam just drowned with gasoline and rock salt. 

He has to stifle his warring desperation to deflect Cas’ unbearable attention. “What, Cas?” he always barks, and he feels Cas’ gaze shift away and he clenches his jaw to fend off the painful tightening of his throat. 

Dean feels the smooth grips under his fingers and he shifts his grip to take better control of the wheel.


End file.
